


Lovely Fireside Chats

by coveredinfeels



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Dragon Age Kink Meme, M/M, South Thedas' Official Sport, Vint Trolling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-22
Updated: 2015-04-22
Packaged: 2018-03-25 05:56:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3799309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coveredinfeels/pseuds/coveredinfeels
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Solas Greatly Disapproves of having to listen to Dorian and the Inquisitor fumbling at each other every chance they get.</p>
<p>Solas Greatly Approves of pleasant discussions by the campfire.</p>
<p>No, of course these two things are not connected. Why do you ask?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lovely Fireside Chats

Trevelyan insists on doing his share of the cooking at camp, something that often perplexes the scouts and irritates Solas. Their Herald, their Inquisitor, the man who holds a power that could rend the Veil asunder, and there he is, bent over a cooking pot muttering to himself about salt, spooning out whatever-it-is (why ask, everything he makes tastes the same) into bowls for them.

"I hope you like it." he says, nominally to the group but obviously aimed at one Dorian Pavus, who gives the Inquisitor such a soppy look as he takes his share that Solas wonders why he ever worried the Tevinter might be angling to steal the power too many idiots have gotten their grubby hands on already. Instead, he's after _domesticity._

"No need to be so humble, Inquisitor." he says lightly. "Dorian is always so vocal about how much he enjoys your efforts."

Dorian gives him a sharp, suspicious look. Bull, sitting on the far side, chuckles under his breath. Maxwell Trevelyan just looks happy at what he undoubtedly presumes is a compliment. Innuendo rolls off the man like a beggar's insult off Madame de Fer. "Oh?"

Solas takes a spoonful of his stew. It tastes mostly of turnip, and he's sure there's not any turnip in it. "A little taste of Ostwick is all it takes to _satisfy_ the Tevinter appetite, it seems."

Dorian curses under his breath in Tevene. "That's none of your business."

"Would you prefer another topic? We could discuss acoustics. The sound carries so well in the tower, I think I'm almost able to identify individual ravens. There are spells that can muffle sounds, of course, but they're rather inefficient. Do you use such spells in Tevinter?"

"No." Dorian says, rather curtly, and returns to his stew. How terribly rude.

Solas nods. "To be honest, I did not think so. Just a thought."

It is petty of him, but when it comes down to it? He'd do anything that keeps him from having to spend another night stuck in a tent with a Qunari, listening to two humans rutting.

The fact that it's hilarious is just a bonus.

**Author's Note:**

> Poor Trevelyan is going to wonder why Dorian suddenly loses all interest in tent sex. Is it something he did?  
> Solas sleeps _wonderfully_ that night. Thank you so much for asking.


End file.
